


Speaking the same language

by CamusVil



Category: Saint Seiya
Genre: Chess, Drabble, First Meetings, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:33:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23474692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CamusVil/pseuds/CamusVil
Summary: Ideas that I collect knowing that the works on this couple are practically non-existent. When the series has shown us that they combine and understand each other so well, they are definitely always speaking the same language.
Relationships: Aquarius Camus/Capricorn Shura
Comments: 4
Kudos: 22





	1. Speaking the same language

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm just hoping that I'll be read and maybe then I could grab some courage to keep writing about them.  
>    
> In the first place I tried to visualize how would it be a first meeting between those two. And I died of excess of honey to think that Shura was so shy that he can't speak to Camus, but would try it so hard to do it anyway.

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The first time he met that unrepeatable and unforgettable red hair, he was ten years old. He believed that the fact that another kid (male) three years younger seemed so striking to him -so mysterious- was because of those hormonal changes in his body that his assigned guardian at the sanctuary often referred to. It was only for that reason the growing curiosity towards that child with an icy aura and huge diamond crystals for eyes.

Over time and after occasional superfluous encounters in which they exchanged glances but not words, when he coincided training in the coliseum with the other warriors, he discovered by chance that his name was «Camus» that time when he replied to another boy of equal age and curly blonde hair that had been asking him questions all morning. He also noticed when he heard him speak that his accent was familiar to him, although he could not identify it with certainty, since this Camus camouflaged him very well with his Greek. On the contrary, Shura was not yet fluent in the local language at all, he was having trouble socializing with the rest from the start, and even if he had made an effort to get closer to someone else he would have nothing to say or the words to help himself. So he vented all his rhetoric by training with his fists and legs, which were the last to leave the coliseum at sunset. He was always the most dedicated and perfectionist, the affairs of his daily life circulated around an itinerary where there was no time for anything that had nothing to do with hitting and kicking or occasionally meditating in the hills of the periphery, but nothing plus; and for the same reason he became convinced that all this repression had to do with his unjustified interest in the redhaired recruit, an interest that only had to do with -he insisted himself- friendship.

He also did not tell his tutor anything when he considered the matter as shameful and inadmissible, but he did learn to ask indirect questions such as: 

"What should I do if I want to talk to someone?" 

The logical answer would be: «go and just say hello» but his tutor, although distant, seemed to be aware that this matter was more difficult for Shura than the others, and after answering him instead: 

"you must first learn to speak in the same language" 

he intensified his learning in the Greek language.

That man from his own land never bothered to ask Shura if that was working for him or if he had managed to speak to that person and Shura, even though he learned the language better, did not try either, so much less he returned to the subject.

After a year had passed, he noticed that "Red Hairs" seemed close to «Milo», the boy who had asked his the name on that occasion, and although sometimes they seemed like a duo that was complemented in training by contrast of his personalities, Red Hairs seemed more comfortable when he got away from everyone else and disappeared without a trace, even from Milo. In addition to this observed detail, Shura still did not dare to speak to him so as not to disturb, but even more intrigued by him. He enjoyed in silence the few days when red hairs stayed in the coliseum for longer, enough so that only the two remained in the enormous terrain decorated by the sunset, although at a great distance to hear some sputtering still having luck, but calm because the boy's presence resonated in some strange way with his.

Of course. When he managed to see those scarlet strands in the wind, shining in the dying rays of the sun and that seemed to spur with their reflection the orange fathoms of the drowned king in coral shades. He made him stop for a few seconds and appreciate the moment, looking at him, he decided that the next day he would definitely speak to him for the first time, ask him about his country of origin and also why he wanted to become a knight.

But the next day and those who followed, Shura still did not dare to speak to him ...

.

.

.


	2. Speaking through the rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because I am deeply happy to share the love for this couple. I will continue writing as much as I can get the ideas that you like.
> 
> Without further ado, this is a continuation of chapter one. I really don't know if the rest are going to follow a conductive thread, since I was just planning to make loose drabbles, but who knows ... it could be such a story.

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The last time he saw him as a child was February 7.

Low tide in front of the sea closest to the sanctuary to the west and there it was, the figure of that boy a little older reflected on the waves of the sea when they overcame the sand. Perpendicularly its silhouette against the sunset of cold colors and the drops of sweat from the effort splashed the sand. Although at that distance he could not knew it for sure, so he only dedicated himself to imagining it in his mind without having any logic or explanation other than boredom.

He was observing this boy in detail, since a few months ago he had discovered how hard he trained, which why -being so analytical- it was a surprise for him to realized that it take so long to notice the excessive effort of that spanish. But now, each time when he found him training, could not look away because he was admiring how the boy cut things with his arms.

Camus did not go out of his way for anything, allowed few things to capture his attention and was far from a distant person. But he also was willing to solve the mystery which that boy was if he could stop guessing about the older recruit just by tying up the dots. Besides at the end of that day Camus would have to leave for eastern Siberia, since his hard training really had only just begun. Possibly this was his last chance to speak to someone who never spoke to him, and yet still was intriguing his mind over everyone else.

"It's about to rain"

He had spoken in perfect Greek when he caught up with him on the shore from behind and felt him tense with the presence of someone else. In fact, his movements seemed to freeze and Camus believed that his cosmo had acquired a new level of power, that of freezing another one without externalizing it.

The other boy straightened up and when his hands dropped to his sides in a natural position he decided to face the redhead. He had no words, no expression, and for a moment Camus doubted that he had heard him, so he repeated:

"Lluvia" (Rain)

This time he said in Spanish and looking at the sky, he knew at least a few words of that language. On the other hand the opposite seemed absent, Camus lost his expression while looking at the gray clouds, but he perceived hesitations.

"Yes..."

It was all the answer that came and for a while no more words were spoken. The rain did indeed break in, at first with only a few constant drops. Camus stopped seeing the sky and focused on the face of the other, he saw him opening his lips but the intensity of the rain threw itself completely on both of them, still the boy managed to say something like «Sura» (Ashura) -the oriental demon- was what the redhead assumed he heard. However, they had no choice but to hurriedly leave the coast and return to the sanctuary. 

The intrigue since then had increased. Camus had to leave and he did it his way, without saying goodbye. They might never see each other again and he knew it, despite everything in the back of his mind the idea persisted, the indestructible illusion that on his return he would find him again.

But how distant that seemed ...

.

.

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> February 7th is Camus's birthday by the way. To say that Shura murdered Aioros when the latter was 14 years old I am going to assume that Shura killed him at 11 after Camus left.


	3. The Chess Bet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That time when Camus and Shura were playing chess in capricorn's temple like every saturday in the afternoon, but this time they agreed to make an interesting bet.  
> Because Camus really loved the capricorn's honorable sculpture.

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"So... what do you want?"

A quick glance from Camus towards one side of Shura to the bottom of the hall, confirms to the spanish what the red haired wanted, so he allowed himself a smile.

"...you know what I want, Shura"

The latter laughed hilariously. He knows Camus didn't used to bet, but still tried so hard to provoke him.

"Camus..."

At first Shura didn't know how to play chess. In fact, it was the aquarian who taught him on one of so many boring afternoons in which they shared closeness by neighborhood, but recently his plays became more shrewd, more strategic and anticipated. Like always, the capricorn gave everything to become better and better on every detail and Camus was beginning to realize that his chips were being threatened with more insistence and disregard.

"...Camus. I won't give you the statue of Athena" 

The statue in capricorn's temple was one of the most beautiful sculptures in the sanctuary and Camus worship it. He used to spend a lot of time while visit his friend admiring the recreated moment when Athena was giving the legendary sword «Excalibur» to the knight.

"I thought you were so sure to win this time that you suggested the bet"

"And I am. But I won't let you have it, so let's better getting started"

The capricorn took out the box and after opening it he began to sort the pieces. He had chosen the black ones, apparently wanting to give the aquarian all the advantage, the first move. A daring wink that knew how to capture and ignite the latter's mind, making it an impossible challenge to take lightly.

"Wait. You hasn't told me what you want from me"

Indeed he hadn't. Because all what Shura wanted was the taste of the victory and the honor of his will for defeating the other as an equal, but maybe he should dare to make some request after seeing how far Camus went.

"Well... seeing how much you like sculptures..."

The red haired stopped his moves midway to place the pieces on the chessboard for paying attention.

"Maybe you could make me a new one... but without powers, just you and the chisel. So classic"


	4. The Chess Bet 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The game was too closed between them.

.

The game was too closed between them. 

Camus was attentive to every move, more defensive than offensive like he used to, but for his misfortune Shura wasn't giving any time to breath within his sharp long moves and flexible formations which allowed to preserve a solid defense.

Anyway, sooner than later the aquarian ended with just one piece (the king of course) while Shura still has his king and a tower as adventage. The latter one was completely sure about his victory, but even at the end of his condition Camus managed to drive the result to a «draw»

"I think I can't go for a second round, certainly I did my best on this last one"

The french chuckled a bit after hearing his response breaking the innocuous silence of an apprehensive duel, but had to agreed

"so you're ready for making a deal"

Suddenly all their movements ceased, the board was almost clean and their gazes connected in a place that was even more empty. Just the two of them there. The glances were interspersed on the opposite eyes, until Shura again broke the silence.

"then give me a ..."

«A kiss» He thought, but didn't say. The idea went through him like a lightning bolt that he could barely contain, however at a good moment he stopped. Shura knew that Camus is a distant, unconquerable man, throwing a comment like that at such a critical moment would only generate discomfort between them, and even then for a moment he hadn't been able to avoid it, knowing that it was such a necessary request ...

"A what?"

"A night in your temple... and you'll be in mine. That's fair huh?   
That way you can appreciate the statue for at least one night, and I hope I can find something interesting in that reserved and private temple that you protect so much from others"

"The only thing I overprotect is the library, you know, nowadays no one respects the state of books. I'm talking about Milo for example"

At that moment Camus's expression turned somewhat exasperated and they both embarked on an anecdote that the Aquarius began to tell his companion, about the careless guardian of the eighth temple and how to keep him away from books while he was carrying something incendiary in his hands.

But finally, after sharing some confident laughs, Camus accepted Shura's idea and so they both agreed to spend the night in each other's temple.

It was funny for Shura to discover that his little slip of asking Camus for a kiss was about to pierce the thin layer of ice he was walking on. By the moment when his mind became more flexible and he found a quick way out, he also discovered that there was some edge to his proposal. During that night he confirmed it. He knew the moment he arrived that the cold currents and also the constant cold air typical of the aquarium temple, were more than that. The cosmos of Camus although it was not present, but distant, continued feeding the structure with its resonance. And he appreciated it. As soon as he crossed the pillars he closed his eyes and let himself be filled with the fresh scent of the ice crystals, did they really have a smell? He couldn't tell, but if he had to resemble it, it would be with mint. Fresh mint and pine trees that reminded him of the natural smell of Camus. He soon discovered that the reason why he associated that particular smell with him was because Camus actually had a small garden by the side of an anteroom wing; nothing as big as Aphrodite's garden, but still a space that allowed the light and heat of the sun to enter adequately, bathe some vines and mint plants, it did not have colorful flowers, but he guessed that that would already be a lot of variety to request. 

Later he walked through other wings and discovered entire shelves with wines and spirits of all kinds, the Aquarian was an intense passionate about liquor and that he also associated with his skills on liquid particles. In itself, there was no one among the twelve golden knights who did not know the two prodigies when it came to drinking: Camus and Dohko.

Continuing on, he finally reached the space that should be most adored by the Aquarian, the library. He entered as an intruder, but soon became a devotee, that was where he could find the most deeply rooted passions in the Aquarian's soul and he wanted to discover them all. He walked through the shelves, organized and impeccable, discovering in one space most of the missing books. All the missing ones were on the table of an old-fashioned but wide wooden desk, each one was by a different philosophical author, some more classic and some more modern. This was a fact that few closer to the redhead knew, his love for philosophy and existentialism always exceeded any other of his few personal passions. 

Shura picked up a specific one that was right in the center of the desk in front of the chair, possibly the last document he had been reading and which he finished, judging by the absence of a separator.

"Les passions de l'âme, René Descartes"

Intrigued by the title and wondering why the redhead was reading the book, he took the book up to the rooms, promising to return it early the next day.

Shura discovered more and more tastes about the redhead that he could later converse with him, or also give him gifts that could return one of those special and occasional sincere smiles as a reward. However, none of his discoveries compared with the very personal feeling when he crossed the threshold of the Aquarian's room and found his essence everywhere. Slowly, trying to evade his deep desire, but getting there anyway, he lay face down on the bed and sucked on the pillow, in his imagination the red hair would be all scattered haphazardly on the bed. Beautiful and still unattainable. That's how Camus was, and that's how Shura hugged the pillow tightly until he managed to slow down his heartbeat and return his attention to the abandoned book beside him.

That night he would sleep in Camus' bed, wrapped by the ice in the air as if they were his arms, with his smell of mints and pines, mixed with the dry leaves of his books, reading about the passions that he was passionate about and chastely kissing his belongings as if it were the owner. In the end the candle in the chandelier would run out, the book would end as the night would run out, and the next day, he had to pretend as if it hadn't really been the experience that it was.

What Shura could not imagine was that Camus had also decided to take a more personal walk through the temple of Capricorn.

Usually they met in that temple, so Camus already knew him quite well. But this time he did it differently, without the constant vigilance of the Capricorn archon, he took the liberty to imagine him in each part of the temple, doing his morning tasks and so absorbed in his world that Camus could take the time to appreciate it attentively. without looking so invasive. He observed the stained glass in some windows with a brief Spanish touch, he wondered what Shura would look like watching through them. Would they make him think of his homeland? Camus couldn't visualize the Capricorn guardian with some nostalgic gesture, he always looked more like ...

Of course he had to get to the center of the temple where the statue he had bet on in the first place was. It was true that he loved it, but he had not fully admitted the "why" of so much insistence. Truth be told whenever he saw the man in the figure receiving the sword, he also saw Shura in him, it was logical, since it was a representation of the most faithful guardian after all. Worse still, it was the only material part that he could take possession of that made him feel as if something, an internal piece of Shura belonged to him. It was strange to admit it, and maybe a little selfish, maybe he hadn't even really wanted it, if he had won the statue it would have remained as is; Still he liked to imagine it, everything reminded him of that image so endearing, so exalted. As if the statue promised to keep the memories lived forever, fresh and new. He could see Shura training his arms so hard, cutting pillars, steel, stars ... and then bathing in them. This space was so familiar that it had normalized the scent of its guardian, but now that it was gone, it recognized it with more fervor everywhere, although it grew more and more as it approached its bedroom.

It was the essence of sunflowers mixed with steel. A rare combination of strength and loyalty, but the sweetness of the star king, also permeated by his solemnity and protective sense. This is Shura, a man of honor, who therefore aroused the admiration of the Aquarian. That also aroused feelings in him that no other being could, encouraged him to be competitive, stimulated him with conversations of all kinds and so deep that they both enjoyed, accompanied him when they had to fight together; but above of all at this moment he was calling him to lie down on his bed and let himself be enveloped by its aroma, by its muted color tones among the varied crystals of light where the candles were reflected.

Camus did not sleep easily, much less did it in foreign places. However he was sure when he fell on the mattress, that the essence of Shura would bend him and take him to a world of dreams from which he would not want to wake up the next day to face again with renewed coolness to the Archon of Capricorn.


End file.
